Gathering Up The Courage
by vardogr
Summary: Not everyone feels the same way about Jonas Quinn. My first fic's finally complete!
1. awareness

**Gathering Up the Courage**

_**Disclaimer: **__Wish I do own them… (sigh!)_

**Rating: **K

**Season/Story timeline:** Six/Set a few weeks before the events of _The Other Guys._

**Summary:** Not everyone feels the same way about Jonas Quinn.

**Comment:** Very first fic posted – _ever_. If this pans out better than I thought, well… (twiddles thumbs)

**A/N: **Everything here is basically what I've come up with while brooding at home one rainy weekend. Made some revisions, but the plot is still the same.

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_"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former." _- Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

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**Chapter One – Awareness **

He's here again.

Every time he ventured in here alone the same thing always happened; he'd go in and all conversations, if not lowered, would abruptly cease. He tried his best to ignore it and the accompanying hostile stares directed at him. He'd then bravely snake his way around the tables to reach the food counter on the other side of the room to inspect today's breakfast selection.

Once that was done, a sea of unfriendly faces greeted him as he turned around. He stood there for a few seconds as he scanned the room, his face impassive as he tried to find anyone familiar, or maybe anyone who would dare invite him to join their table. Currently, he's "friends" with four people in the entire complex, and none presently at the commissary.

The Kelownan didn't waste another second and simply left the room quietly with his food-laden tray to eat somewhere else.

Conversations began in earnest as soon as he was out the door… like nothing happened.

Someone should've done something. _I_ should've done something.

Instead I just watched and sat by while the guy was shunned from every direction, like he was carrying some sort of transmittable disease. It wasn't right.

I was taken out of my reverie when I heard Capt. Burkes, who was sitting beside me, telling everyone around the table with us about stubborn aliens who didn't know what's good for them.

Without second thought or a bat of an eye, the others readily joined in, highly entertained at the change of subject. No doubt, the entire commissary was discussing _only__ one subject_.

I studied the faces surrounding me. SG-4 just arrived from a recon mission four hours ago. SG-13, where Capt. Burkes belonged to, was currently on stand down. They were just finishing up on their individual mission reports to be given to the commander of SGC the next day.

My own team, SG-2 was away on a return mission to P1C-586, a trinium-rich planet that we recently stumbled upon via the Abydos Gate list, while I'm here on base recuperating from a broken collarbone and two cracked ribs after falling headlong down a 30-foot ravine attempting to rescue a little kid that was trapped below.

SG teams would automatically be out of active duty while an injured team member recuperated. Presently, I am that injured team member, but circumstances warrant SG-2 to return to '586 without me.

Meanwhile, I have been stuck here at the base for five days now with a slight concussion, a sling on my right arm, and a bandaged chest that covered a huge purple discoloration (the shape of Australia) that hugged my chest and the entire side of my left torso that's giving me one hell of a time.

What added to my already unhappy disposition was the fact that I might be like this for another two weeks. In Col. O'Neill's own words, I am not a happy camper.

I am not in the mood for anything today. I ached all over, and lying down certainly did not help. Although I was permitted to leave my bed for short periods of time, I did not bother bothering myself. When I was just about to resign myself to my present predicament, my knight in shining armor (or in this case dark navy BDUs to be precise) came to whisk me away, even for just a few minutes, from Dr. Fraiser's watchful eyes in the guise of SG-13's Lt. Sykes.

Sykes and I go a long way back before Stargate Command, and had been friends ever since. He asked me if I wanted to join him and his team for breakfast at the commissary. I was so elated that I almost kissed him.

After checking in with the doctor, who wore a reproving look on her face, we both set off as fast as my sore body allowed, half-dreading of being recalled back to my sterile prison even before I could take a step towards freedom. We easily found the rest of SG-13 already there sharing a table with another team, SG-4.

My dark mood began to lift after being surrounded by people wearing anything other than immaculate white lab gowns to the different colored stethoscopes for accessories in just a span of 30 seconds. My injuries, how I got them, the dark cloud hanging over my head, the infirmary, and Dr. Fraiser became a thing of the past as we swapped stories and laughed at jokes thrown around the table.

It even made me feel good about being confined to base, sort of a blessing-in-disguise kind of thing. I was able to catch up with the rest of the world since we'd been "out there" protecting our little part of the universe most of the time. It was then that I felt a sense of contentment.

Then it happened. No. He _happened_.

I could literally feel the temperature in the room drop at an incredible rate once Jonas Quinn stepped in, and it quickly went back up again as soon as he left.

I schooled my features before it became a dead giveaway to what I was truly feeling.

I bowed my head, suddenly becoming acutely interested at the bowl of raisin bran cereal before me, stirring it occasionally when, in truth, my mind was far away. I successfully drowned out the mocking voices around me, tried not to feel the heavy weight of oppression directed at someone so vehemently, and forced myself to concentrate on a single bubble floating on the milk my distracted stirring had caused.

Witnessing such cruelty placed on someone who gave everything – who _gave up everything_ – to help Earth and SGC, I felt a myriad of emotions, but none so strongly and as overwhelming as the feeling of…

Remorse.

I knew that the way SG-1's newbie was treated around the base, by the very people whose lives he saved every time he crossed the event horizon, wasn't right. It never was or would ever be.

But did I do anything to stop it?

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_Feedback much appreciated, good or bad. Thanks in advance for taking the time to read this. Did I just say that this is my very first fic – ever? Just give a holler if you think it is worth continuing over or otherwise. Please be gentle._


	2. dilemma

**A/N: I have finally posted a new chapter! It had been ages since the last time I even touched this one. To those who reviewed all those months ago, my most humblest of apologies for not saying my thanks to all of you until now. I admittedly got a "little" sidetracked what with writing **_**Heir**_**. And I owe it to every one of you out there to finish this. That and I am also having one of those very rare depression stages in my life. So here goes nothing.**

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**_"I say, my hell is the closet that I'm stuck inside."_ - Dave Matthews Band

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Chapter Two - Dilemma**

_But did I do anything to stop it?_

That question continued to nag at me even though it had been three days since the incident at the commissary happened.

It wasn't much of an incident really. It had been occurring almost every day. I've heard of it but never witnessed it before and, up until that point, had no idea how naïve I was at how bad the situation actually was.

It made me feel bad both for him and for myself. I was there but I didn't do a thing. And why was that? I left that question hanging, dreading the answer I already knew but was still trying to deny to myself.

I was just released from the infirmary a few hours ago and thanked the two SFs that brought my things up to my temporary residence at one of the base's VIP rooms. One of them placed my duffel bag at the foot of the bed before stepping out while another placed an armful of blue folders on an empty table at the corner.

Compliments from Gen. Hammond, the airman said.

I looked at the stack warily like it was a coiled rattler ready to strike. I had heard stories about the base commander having a twisted sense of humor from time to time. I think I'm starting to believe them.

Maybe this was what Dr. Fraiser had in mind when she told me to go easy the first few days.

The SFs left me with a faint smile of sympathy on their faces as they closed the door behind them, their receding footfalls echoing outside the hallway as they went back to their stations.

Silence. A feeling of loneliness, helplessness and foreboding was beginning to set in. I wished Noel was here. He'd know when to make a ruckus out of things whenever possible.

2nd Lt. Noel Sykes and I had been friends since our early days at boot camp. He always, _always_ stressed that his name rhymed with "Paul" and that there was no arguing about it.

We were so opposite from each other, that to this day, it still made me wonder how the likes of me ever got my friend's attention. He had always been the vocal one while I was the silent type. He wanted to stand out, the life and soul of every party while I was contented at being left alone. He had an attitude that sometimes got him into trouble with the senior officers and I was the goody-two-shoes people pleaser and everyone's generally likeable guy. He doted on attention that everyone paid him as I wanted nothing to do with it.

Everyone acknowledged Noel as one good soldier. He could even become a great commanding officer if not for his well-known rowdiness and all-around bad boy image. I guess it was one of the reasons why he was chucked out of his latest promotion.

We both should be First Lieutenants by now.

But some of the rowdiness seemed to have disappeared after he met Col. Jack O'Neill. My friend was more than awestruck by the Air Force colonel rather than by the ten-thousand-year-old, two stories high, sixty-four-thousand ton, naquadah-made Ancient device that was the Stargate as the rest of us new recruits undoubtedly were after seeing it for the very first time. I think that was the turning point in Noel's life and I wanted so much to thank the colonel for that.

Every new recruit had to pass Col. O'Neill's strict standards. Make it or break it. He had the last say and the blessings of the SGC commander to further strengthen his authority. The colonel was a hard man to please, they said, and I understood perfectly. To be the one person who held hundreds of lives on his hands and seeing some of them fall like pieces of dominoes at the hands of the Goa'uld would certainly make any man harden like him. He needed those he could count on and having their wits about them in times of danger.

I knew, without doubt, that Noel was going to make it to the cut. He wanted it. He dreamed of it ever since we were given a tour around the mountain and met some of the SG teams, most especially its flagship unit SG-1.

I was dubious with regards to myself. I wasn't like Noel. So imagine my surprise when we were both accepted in the Program and all I could ever think of then was that I made it. Barely. I pictured my name being at the bottom of the list, teetering near the edge of the invisible demarcation line that divided the "make" from the "break".

Noel Sykes came in this morning at the infirmary, informing me that he had some business outside the base to attend to but would not be gone long. He wished he could be there when Dr. Fraiser finally lets me out. But the thing he had to take care of couldn't wait. So he promised to drop by as soon as he returned.

I sighed all the while looking around the spacious room allotted to me for the remainder of my inactive duty as I pondered on what to do first. Unpacking the bag Noel had brought in from my apartment this morning would be a good start.

But then again I didn't feel like unpacking at the moment.

Although hospital food tasted nothing like Noel's mom's cooking, it still had the desired effect on the body. The need to sleep was overwhelming as I eased myself carefully onto the soft bed, wincing a bit as I felt a twinge of pain in my chest. It was hard to maneuver one-handed as I tried to find a comfortable position to lie down. My mind began to wander to places that I'd rather not go to just yet. Just like the question that had been bugging me ever since.

I shoved the thought of the Kelownan aside as I tried to find a way to solve my own problems.

I'd been putting my own dilemma on hold for days now. Because thinking about it wouldn't help me one whit. But the sense of dread and uncertainty was much stronger now than ever before.

Pulling that stunt on '586 had Maj. Ferretti railing mad. He even threatened to have me removed from the team as soon as the talks ended. If it ever begins, that is.

The one year that I've been working with him I knew he would likely do just that.

I am not a pessimistic sort of person but I knew and acknowledged that what happened to me was entirely my fault. And it would likely threaten the talks with the people of P1C-586.

If only there was another way…

"_Please, help us!"_

"_He's slipping!"_

"_Wait til we get there, lieutenant."_

"_The floodwaters will overcome him if we do not do something, NOW!"_

"_I'm afraid the kid won't be able to hold that long, sir."_

"_That's an order!"_

"_Help me! Somebody, please!"_

"_Ah, hell!"_

"_Now there's two of you we need to rescue. I told you to _stay put_, Edrald!"_

"_The rope slackened, sir."_

"_Don't let go, please!"_

"_It's all right, I got you."_

"_The water's rising! Quick! Help them – "_

"_I think I might've broken something, major."_

"_Perfect! How's the tree holding out so far?"_

"_I'm scared."_

"_Me, too, kiddo."_

"_I am just about a hair away from kicking you out of the team, Edrald!"_

"Attention, all personnel! Unscheduled off world activation… Incoming wormhole!"

"_I am not through with you, yet."_

"Attention, all personnel! Unscheduled off world activation… Incoming wormhole!"

The klaxon sliced through my dreams and jolted me instantly awake. I quickly rolled around without thought and fell out of bed landing face flat on the floor. Hard.

_Ow!_

I yelped as unimaginable pain tore through me then and stars danced before my eyes. I only gave myself enough time to catch my breath, organize my thoughts and bearings.

The klaxon continued to wail throughout the base. A long, mournful sound that everyone quickly identified with Gate activation.

Certain that I could move with little pain, I picked myself up one-handed and hobbled out of the room. I had no idea why I felt the need to be there, not exactly sure if it was indeed SG-2 or not. I reached level 28 in record time for someone like me and headed straight for the control room.

Although the general was kind enough to inform me that they called in a few times during my stay at the infirmary and inquired about my health, I was hoping to personally hear from my team myself. Maybe, it would help assuage the anxiety that became my constant companion these past few days, even if a little.

Very few people were ever granted access to the control room, the most sensitive of areas, the _Sanctus sanctum_ of the entire facility at their leisure: Gen. Hammond, the Gate operators and techs, SG-1, Maj. Davis of the Pentagon and a few selected guests to name a few.

I did not barge my way in there like I belonged to those distinguished personalities and instead stood just at the threshold and out of everybody's way.

At the Gate room, the iris slid shut over the event horizon. Either someone or something was trying to enter Earth via the Ancient device or we were receiving radio transmission from one of our off world teams or from an ally. It was only a matter of waiting for an IDC to be sent through the Gate before anyone could do anything else.

My attention zeroed in on the figure standing behind the Chief Gate operator, Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman. Gen. George Hammond was looking down at one of the monitors in front of him.

My heart leapt as I distinctly heard my CO's voice magnified over the room's intercom. I craned my neck to see better. The general must have noticed me standing there and silently beckoned me forward.

I crossed the busy room towards him, all the while trying to slow down the furious beating of my heart and tentatively stood a step or two behind the general. Maj. Louis Ferretti was in the middle of giving the commander a rundown of what had transpired in the past twenty-four hours.

If someone warned me beforehand of things to come, I should've had opted to stay away from the control room until this entire incident passed.

Up until now SG-2 was still trying to convince Michen, the leader of the village to reopen talks with them. I soon found out that what I feared earlier had indeed came true.

After returning from the base, SG-2 found out that the village leader decided on cancelling all talks with them. The reason they gave was that I, a subordinate, had disobeyed a direct order coming from my superior and that showed weakness in leadership. Michen further stated that he only learned of what happened right after we left.

Although as advanced as we were, the people of P1C-586 led very simple lives. They believed in strict obedience to the chain of command. It showed strength and commanded respect. And since I had clearly broken their number one rule, even if the reason was trying to rescue a little kid from a watery grave and however heroic it may be, the people of '586 had seen it as a sign of weakness and wanted nothing to do with us after that.

I gulped. In wanting to help, I left my CO in a very precarious position. I thought they might be able clear things up with the villagers if the family we helped could be asked to step forward on our behalf but neither the child nor its parents could be found to back up my story.

What a mess I made.

I was already red with shame and couldn't bring myself to look at the general beside me. To anyone there for that matter.

And wonder of wonders… my CO inquired about me.

I held my breath then as my chest constricted like dread was squeezing the air out of me.

Gen. Hammond was about to step aside to let me stand in front of the monitor finally giving me a chance to speak with my team when I heard Maj. Ferretti curtly say no.

I blinked. _What?_ My brows furrowed as I studied the major's stern countenance. It would seem that my thought process was left behind in the corner where I stood a while ago. I blinked again this time accompanied by a raised brow.

Good thing visual was not two-way. Otherwise, I would look comical to my CO with the expression I was wearing.

Did I just heard right or had I just imagined it? In a daze and uncertain of what to do I stepped back not quite looking at the pair of faces turned at me. Everybody in the room certainly heard it. Yeah, must have because the general nodded his head and their discussion went back to the mission at hand.

Our short "conversation" had just confirmed my worst fears. The major was pissed with me. Pissed big time. If there's anything I'd rather not face during my time here on Earth that would be Maj. Ferretti's wrath and my imminent ejection from SG-2.

The major was known to follow in on his CO's footsteps on chucking out anyone he thought who couldn't reach his standards. I vividly remembered the time, not so long ago, when SG-1 had to find a replacement for its fourth member _nine times_ after the "death" of Dr. Daniel Jackson and before Col. O'Neill finally allowed Jonas Quinn to join the team.

So with a sinking heart and deep foreboding groveling at the pit of my stomach for things to come, that was the end of me. My cue to leave.

It was a most unpleasant thing to feel, rejection. No matter how many times in your life you experienced it nothing could still prepare you from the pain and the hurt that one word could inflict upon your person.

I sighed heavily. I felt like twenty years older after my encounter with the major. I wanted to hide under a rock somewhere. No doubt, this news would be the latest addition to the base's rumor mill.

Yes, now I really did it. If only I could return back to '586 and sort this one out myself.

But that would be another show of insubordination on my part. It might even make matters worse.

The only thing that I could do now was wait for the inevitable and start thinking of a whole new career after the major was through with me.

As I turned around, after quietly asking permission in taking my leave from the general, I noticed someone standing by the stairs that led to the briefing room directly above.

Jonas Quinn.

Another person appeared in my peripheral vision, someone wearing white. I turned quickly and saw one of the infirmary's nurses standing on the same spot where I stood a while ago looking at me.

I only took a moment to acknowledge the young woman's presence and then quickly looked up the stairs, hoping to greet Jonas with a smile or a slight nod of my head. I wanted to take the first step in befriending the guy. I had no idea what possessed me to do it right then and there. Maybe because everyone else was so busy they wouldn't even notice the silent exchange. Here at the control room and anywhere else at the base, he was never truly accepted as "one of us" like they did Teal'c and the other aliens who decided to remain on Earth but they were careful enough not to show their animosity whenever Jonas was with the big guns of SGC. Just like now.

My smile froze when I saw no one there. He must've ascended the split second that I took my eyes away from him.

Deflated, I walked towards the nurse. "Dr. Fraiser is waiting for you, sir."

I looked at the time. Yikes. I'm past my scheduled check-up with the doctor. I left the control room in a hurry, the orderly following close behind.

These people had their reasons to hate the guy. Rumor has it that if Jonas hadn't "peed" on his pants, Dr. Jackson would still be "alive" today. Well, technically, he's still alive. He just took on another form as soon as he "Ascended" as Col. O'Neill clarified again and again. They held no memorial service for the kind scientist so that basically meant that he was alive somewhere out there. What really happened on Kelowna was anyone's guess since the persons involved decided not to divulge anything at all.

Okay. So how do I get to know him? I just couldn't approach without enough background on the intended subject. You got to at least have something you know about the man.

Wait a minute. Why bother at all? I got a lot of things on my mind right now like, oh, my future, that I shouldn't even involve myself on another person's dilemma.

_How about being guilty at not doing anything at the commissary at all for starters? _A voice in my head reminded me sarcastically. Okay, so I pity the guy because I knew exactly how he felt at being rejected because I am at that very same position right now. But there's also another factor that I had to consider: I just want to be friends with the guy. Quinn seemed like a really nice guy and lonely, too, with SG-1 off world without him. Befriending him wouldn't be so bad now, would it?

So what do I know about him?

Nothing.

Oh, that was enlightening. Maybe I should just drop this and concentrate on how to get back into Maj. Ferretti's good graces _before _he really decided to kick me out of the team.

As I slowly walked my way into the infirmary, a thought hit me. I wanted to kick myself for not thinking of it sooner.

I had no idea that my escort was following at a respectful distance but was instantly beside me before I had noticed it, drawing the conclusion that something must be wrong as she gently touched my elbow.

I shook my head and assured her that I was fine.

The nurse then lets go but did not move away. It was then that I noticed I had completely stopped in the middle of the hallway. But I did not care at the moment.

It took me a few seconds more before I came to a decision and set my jaw firmly for what I am about to do.

It was then that I nodded at the nurse who was waiting patiently before moving purposely forward, her silent thread following closely at my heels.


	3. first contact

**A/N: I suddenly have a very strong urge to do this story and leave **_**Heir**_** for a while but not because I am running out of ideas (still got a lot of tricks up my sleeve) for it but rather, I want to take a break from it. Even for a short while. Maybe depression has got something to do with it, not sure, but in case anyone would like to know, the idea of writing **_**Gathering**_** in the first place came around the same way almost a year ago. To those who reviewed… what can I say? Is there any other way to show my appreciation other than saying "thank you"? You're welcome to send me your suggestions. :)**

**Oh, yeah, just wanted to add that this is a friendship fic. In case someone gets any funny ideas. Lol :)**

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**_"It is by chance we met, by choice we became friends."_

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Chapter Three - First Contact**

I really hadn't known anything much about the newest member of SG-1. Only snippets of what I heard around the base and, frankly, none of them were good.

Alien spy. Traitor. Ambitious.

Dr. Jackson's killer.

I instantly believed them, fool that I was, and had never even bothered to find out if any of them were true. Human nature, I guess.

Truth be told, I really did not care then because I was happy with the way my life was going at Stargate Command. My career, my team, my own set of friends. I do feel sorry for the guy, though, since almost everyone wanted nothing to do with him and was only saved from physical harm because he was surrounded by the powers-that-be of the base.

After what happened to Dr. Jackson all those months ago, I felt the loss just like everyone else did at SGC because without him, both the Program and Gate travel would never be a possibility. I firmly believed that we owed him a lot and one of them would be Earth's continued freedom from Goa'uld occupation. So when an alien and an inexperienced one like Jonas Quinn entered the picture, I also shared the feeling of anger and resentment everybody else felt at the knowledge that a nobody was going to fill in the void that the archaeologist had left behind.

What's more was the thought of Dr. Jackson being replaced by the very person that killed him, even if it was Col. O'Neill himself who chose the self-exiled alien over a Russian, it was still an insult to his memory.

And what was the general thinking when he offered the archaeologist's office for the Kelownan to use as his own? Were they simply indifferent? Or were they merely daft? I think unlikely.

My primary thought then was if everyone gave him the cold shoulder, well, I guess he deserved it. The guy should've had at least an inkling of what was coming at him.

He snuck out of his planet with some naquadria for good measure to ensure that he would not be kicked back to the planet he had just turned his back on. Traitor's a heavy one to call a person but his actions were indeed those of one. So I guess it was just right to call him that after all that's happened.

Once a traitor always a traitor. That's what they say. Who knows, he might just do that again in order to save his own hide and I think that's what made people wary of him.

But if that was the case, then why did the general and the colonel agreed on letting Jonas Quinn join SG-1? The colonel's reason was just lame, now that I thought of it. They could've had just confined him to base and forbid him to ever get anywhere near the Stargate. Or they could just put him in a mad house and throw away the key since no one would believe any of his stories about coming here from another world. Jonas Quinn had already exhausted his usefulness once he had turned over the naquadria to them. He simply had nothing left to offer.

Or maybe, there's something about him that SG-1 had seen that no one else did.

What?

As I sat by one of the medical beds of the infirmary being examined by Dr. Fraiser, a battle was furiously raging on inside of me. Should I dare ask her? The urge to say something and to not say something made a tug-of-war in my mind. Asking her was the idea that I had back at the hallway but now that she was standing right in front of me, my resolve waned.

The bones were healing nicely and I should be back on active duty much sooner than the doctor had expected but still recommended for me to go easy.

The nurse that fetched me from level 28 left minutes ago. The examination was over and as I was about to jump down and thank her – I've decided not to ask her after all – Dr. Janet Fraiser laid a gentle, but firm hand on my good arm.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, lieutenant?"

I looked down at her mildly surprised. How'd she know?

"You kept looking at me the entire time."

I hardly recalled ever doing that.

"What is it?"

I wanted to say that it was nothing but what came out of my lips was different. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Mr. Quinn, ma'am."

The doctor stood there, surprise evident on her face before it was replaced by a guarded look accompanied by the undeniable drop of her voice. "Why?"

Yes. Good question. Why do I bother? It was straightforward and obtrusive but she was the only person, except for Gen. Hammond and SG-1, who knew Jonas Quinn as no other had bothered knowing anything about him. She was also the only person that I could ask in order for me to understand something, if just a little bit, about the person I wanted to befriend.

I shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to know more about him." _Coming from someone who does._ I left that part out but I think Dr. Fraiser got my meaning. I wanted to sound as casual as I could, wanting to send across that it really wasn't that important.

"Not satisfied with what's been said about him around, huh?" She was testing me.

I had an answer to that. "I find them not to my liking, ma'am."

She regarded me for a long moment. Maybe seizing me up and what was my real motive for asking. I became self-conscious of her stare. Maybe I should've just clamped my mouth shut and left it at that.

The doctor sighed. "What do you already know," – she looked down at my medical chart – "Aidan?"

Her use of my given name gave the indication that this entire conversation was only between the two of us and that made me relax. I already knew my answer beforehand and, although ashamed as I was, told her. Nothing.

That elicited a soft chuckle from the medical chief. "Well, that's one thing you don't hear every day."

She was probably thinking of the rumors that were running rampant around the base. I just sat there, my eyes roaming the sterile infirmary waiting for her to continue.

Chief Master Sergeant Siler, the Chief Gate techician was lying three beds down from us. He must've had gotten himself in an accident again. How many times this week? I think the tech was subconsciously trying to surpass anyone, even members of the SG teams, in the number of times a lone individual gets to visit the infirmary in a multitude of aches and pains ever known to man. He was more accident prone than Dr. Jackson was. And to think that he never even went off world.

"He trusts easily."

I blinked, refocusing my attention on the petite woman. "Ma'am?"

"Jonas," she said. "He trusts easily and blindingly. It's his nature to be ever so friendly."

I nodded, urging for her to continue. He seemed approachable the times I'd seen him around. Even saw him smile a handful of times at people who merely stared at him in return or shrugged him off entirely.

"But it's not enough." She sighed. "People around here want blood."

I knew what she was saying. I harbored that belief once myself. "Because of what happened to Dr. Jackson." It was a fact, not a question.

"Yes,"

"But from what I've heard, Mr. Quinn wouldn't want to help in the first place after his government accused Dr. Jackson of sabotaging their Naquadria Project." That incident was an open secret so basically everyone at SGC knew about that.

Dr. Fraiser crossed her arms as she said thoughtfully, "It's not that he did not want to help, but rather, he was hesitant. He suddenly found himself in a very compromising position. On the one hand, he had the safety of his people to think about. On the other, he wanted to clear Daniel's name, but doing so would be seen as a traitorous act amongst his people, siding with the strangers who wanted to stop them from building the bomb in the first place."

In short, the guy was simply confused at what to do. I knew I would.

"Jonas is as much of a victim here as Daniel was. If he went against the project, that would be the end of him. If not, then he would have blood on his hands if the naquadria bomb would ever be used and I don't think Jonas could ever live with that."

Wow, that's a new way to look at it. Even I had not thought of that.

"If only they could see past that," she continued, "I think they'll find the young man not hard to like. People tend to get carried away by their emotions, regardless of it being wrong or right."

They just acted on it. I know. I'd been there. "If anyone has the right to be angry that should be Dr. Jackson's friends."

"They used to be, that's for sure, but it all gradually changed at some point due to circumstances surrounding them that had allowed them to know Jonas a little bit more. He also proved himself to be a valuable member of SG-1 many times over."

"You mean to say, that Col. O'Neill tolerates Mr. Quinn because of what he can do?"

Dr. Fraiser smiled. "I'd say that it's Jonas who tolerates him most of the time."

"But except for those who do know Mr. Quinn everybody here's giving him little or no acknowledgement at all."

"Maybe some are still holding a grudge against Jonas but I think the reason why people are still giving him the cold shoulder is because it's been gone unchecked for so long they had gotten used to the idea of simply ignoring him."

Very plausible now that I thought of it.

"Still," she continued, "he never stops smiling and helpful and ever so optimistic. His smile is his defense mechanism of sorts. It hides the loneliness he feels and tends to ward off any concerns someone may direct his way, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. Sometimes it worries me."

"Don't you feel any anger towards him? I mean, he is the reason why Dr. Jackson's gone."

"I was," Dr. Fraiser answered honestly. "But I cannot be for long because it's my job to take care of him also. And it didn't take me long to discover just how much pain he's in. How lonely. And sad. There's something about him that makes me want to help him. He's so much like Daniel at times."

A nurse suddenly appeared behind her. Cassie, her daughter, was on the telephone. She nodded her thanks before once again turning to me. I knew our conversation was at an end but I didn't want to leave just yet.

"It's been nice talking to you, lieutenant." She said as I slid down the medical bed. "Take care of that arm, y'hear?"

I thanked her gratefully mostly for the insight on Jonas Quinn. She smiled once again as she gently patted my good arm in a motherly fashion before walking away.

As I stumbled out of the infirmary, a lot of things went through my mind. Most of all, the marvel I felt in the way Jonas had managed through it all. I really wasn't looking to where I was going, immersed in my own little world, and as I turned a corner I collided hard against someone.

We both stumbled away from each other as books, scrolls, parchment of papers and other writing materials fell into a messy heap on the floor. The ruckus they made at the empty hallway was enough to send my ears ringing. Regaining my balance, I saw the unlucky fellow that crossed my path.

I stood immobile for a few before I realized that he was already on his hands and knees picking his things up. Immediately I was there beside him helping. "I'm sorry," I stammered, not really looking at him, collecting those that my good arm could reach and stacked them beside me. "I wasn't looking to where I was going…"

Jonas Quinn shrugged indifferently. "It's okay," he replied in a deadpan manner. "I get that all the time…" he added under his breath as he made a grab for a runaway pencil before it got out of reach.

I threw him a puzzled glance before I realized what he implied. That's not what I meant at all. But instead of explaining myself I just continued what I was doing. Suddenly I chuckled as my attempts at arranging the papers I've collected one-handed failed. That got my companion's attention.

"What?" he asked in a tone that was suspiciously wary.

"Wish I hadn't broken my collarbone." I replied, nodding my head at my slinged arm before looking at him. "It would make fixing these much faster."

Curiosity twinkled in Jonas Quinn's green eyes. "What happened?"

I told him, though I omitted a couple of details I am too ashamed to recount. "I could've broken my neck or been carried away downstream if not for a tree jutting near the base of the cliff wall." I added. "Broke two ribs, too."

Sympathy was clearly written all over his face. "That really just sucks," he said as he took the pile of papers from my hand and arranged it himself. His wariness immediately forgotten as Jonas Quinn became caught up with my misfortune. "But I supposed they said "thank you" at least?"

I watched him put the rest of the papers together with the books on one single stack, the scrolls beside it. "Well…" I slowly began, tilting my head to one side, "there was a lot going on and I wasn't thinking about that at all."

The youngest member (maybe around my age, I presume) of SG-1 eyed me incredulously as he gathered everything up on one arm. I gave him a sheepish lopsided smile in return. He then straightened up.

And tentatively offered his hand down at me.

It was not until a few months later that I came to realize, out of retrospect and with a little help from Jonas, that that was the very first gesture he made towards befriending me. Me. When it was I who was hell bent on being friends with him.

I grasped the proffered hand firmly and let him pull me up, when I heard footsteps behind us.

"Hey!"

I turned to see Noel striding towards us, a darkening scowl on his face. Uh-oh.

"This guy bothering you?" The vehemence in his voice was hard to ignore. He was now fuming angrily beside me, staring at the Kelownan, ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

I turned to look at Jonas Quinn who kept a cool exterior as he stared right back at Noel. "No." I stated matter-of-factly as I stood between them, facing Noel fully as I tried blocking the Kelownan from his sights.

Noel skeptically looked at me. "You sure?"

"I am," I answered, adding a little edge to my voice. "Look, Noel, it's my fault. I bumped into him. I wasn't looking, okay?"

I then turned an apologetic look at Jonas, way past caring if Noel noticed it or not. "I'm really sorry. You sure you're okay?"

Jonas nodded, not taking his eyes away from my friend. "Yeah, don't worry."

Just then Noel snaked his way around me and shoved Jonas hard on the shoulder. "You stay away from my friends – "

"Hey!" I pushed Noel away from him. That was totally uncalled for. I anxiously looked at both ends of the hallway in case someone might chance upon us.

"Y'hear?" he yelled as I continued pushing him back down the corridor. "We don't want traitors watching our six so you should get back to wherever hellhole it is that you came from. We don't need your kind here!"

I growled out a warning at Noel before turning to utter a hurried apology but Jonas Quinn was already going the opposite way and turned a corner out of sight.

We walked in stony silence as I retreated back to my room with barely controlled anger. I waited until the two of us were safely inside before I confronted him.

"What the hell was that all about?" I barked.

He turned an innocent look at me. "What?"

I jerked my thumb angrily over my shoulder. "That ruckus you just made back at the hallway?"

He shrugged as if that was a normal occurrence to even worry about. "I thought he was making a nuisance of himself."

I gaped at him sitting casually on one of the sofas. "I already told you, it was my fault. What part of the sentence did you _not _understand?"

"Okay," Noel easily relented shrugging, "so I went out of line – "

"Ya think?" I was so furious that I wanted to hit something or someone.

"All right, so I made a mistake," he snorted lightly, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Why are you so pissed, Aidan?"

"I'm pissed because of the fact the he didn't do anything and yet you kept on going at him!" I tried keeping my emotions in check. "I can't believe you!"

"So, now what?" Noel asked irritated. "You're siding with the traitor now?"

"You're sounding more and more like Capt. Burkes," I retorted. I was starting to dislike the man immensely as seconds passed. He was definitely not a good influence on Noel. The man was a total jerk.

Suddenly, Noel stood up. "Look, I thought he was harassing _you_. So I did what I thought _I_ had to do."

"By calling him a traitor?" God, I hate that word!

Noel shook his head at me. "This discussion is getting nowhere. I just want to check on you before I leave for an off world mission tomorrow, to see if you've settled in fine." He headed for the door.

I pursed my lips together as he went past me, thinking all of those misconceptions I had initially thought of about Jonas Quinn and after my enlightening conversation with Dr. Fraiser a few minutes earlier, I quickly learned the err of my ways. I also wanted to make Noel see his. So clenching my teeth together I had one final question I wanted to throw at him.

"You know," I began gravely, turning to look at my friend. "I don't get it, Noel," he paused to look at me, his hand on the doorknob. "What has he done to you? To any of you?"

We stared at each other for a few moments before Noel Sykes opened the door and walked out without a word.


	4. countdown

"_Gentleness, self-sacrifice and generosity are the exclusive possession of no one race or religion." _- Mahatma Gandhi

"_A man's character is his fate." _- Heraclitus

**

* * *

Chapter Four – Countdown**

Commissary.

After that humiliating episode in the Gate room almost an hour ago, I ended up in the base commissary. Well, I didn't immediately headed straight there but it was my third and final stop before meeting my doom down level 27, feeling very much like a convict having his last meal before being hanged.

But food was the last thing on my mind so I made a beeline for the coffee dispenser station instead. I hugged my steaming mug of very strong decaf close to my person like a mother hen protecting her egg. I detested the thing, by the way, but I needed something very strong to help still my jangled nerves. At least, just long enough to get me through the upcoming debriefing which was a few minutes from now.

There were only about six people in the commissary that morning, besides the cook and his helper, and I was the only one sitting alone and far away from the rest. I glanced their way, checking out if one of them I recognized as one of a dozen or so people who was anywhere near the Gate room when it happened. But even if they weren't there I knew, without doubt, that they'd already heard it from someone who did.

Funny how the mind work. They'd retain, in vivid quality, things you'd rather not remember at all.

SG-13 left yesterday and Noel didn't drop by to see me, just as I had predicted, owing to the fact that we had a disagreement the previous day. I wasn't bitter about it nor resented him for it. It's just the way how things were done. We pissed each other off so we gave one another a wide berth to cool off and clear our heads. In our particular case, it's millions of light-years apart.

With Noel gone off world, I spent the day searching for Jonas Quinn – covertly if possible – to once again apologize for my friend's behavior. Looking for him turned out to be a daunting task. It would seem that the Kelownan had this uncanny ability to make himself scarce. I tried hanging out at the places they said he frequented but no such luck. Either he already left or was never there.

No one seemed to have gotten whiff of the hallway incident involving Jonas, Noel and I. Whatever were his reasons, I wanted to thank Noel for it so I was really hoping he'd turn up for me to say it but he never did.

Morning found me standing apprehensively before the circled behemoth. I could still hear the mournful sound of the Gate klaxon as the iris covered the open wormhole while the Gate operators waited for an IDC to be transmitted. No defense units were called into the Gate room as it was a scheduled activation so I was there, all alone, waiting for the general to join me as soon as he descended from 27.

SG-2 was finally coming home. I learned of it just a few minutes ago.

What I felt at that moment, I wasn't sure, but I could definitely remember standing there trying to think of a way to greet them flippantly but my mind was a solid blank wall. My face was looking straight at the Gate but I really wasn't staring at it, lost in my own thoughts.

I was glad SG-2 was returning after ten days of staying at P1C-586 but another part of me saw my world quickly coming to an end. I drew a ragged breath and released it slowly, feeling some of the tension leaving my system only to have it returned tenfold. As seconds ticked by, my being a member of SG-2 was dwindling fast. The inevitable was coming and there was no helping it. In a few seconds, I'd be coming face to face with Major Ferretti.

Footsteps to my right heralded Gen. Hammond's entrance at the Gate room. We nodded at each other as he closed the distance between us. It turned out that Maj. Ferretti had called in yesterday to inform the general about their return today and requested that the information be withheld from me for the time being.

_Now, why was that? _I wondered.

I wanted so much to inquire about the talks SG-2 was trying to reestablish with Michen and his people but held my tongue. Instead, I respectfully retreated a step of two behind the base commander and that got me a questioning look from him but pretended not to notice as I focused my attention back to the Stargate.

The people at the control room must've finally received a confirmation from SG-2 because the trinium-made iris contracted to reveal the shimmering wormhole behind it. I steeled my nerves and gritted my teeth. My heart was thumping furiously against my ribcage as my good hand clutched the fisted one on the sling, both clammy, as my mind screamed _Ohgodohgodohgod…!_

Our philologist, Jim Grant, appeared first. He greeted the general with a weary but self-satisfied smile. My teammate looked at me and nodded. I returned the gesture with a nod of my own and a tight smile upon my lips. Inside I felt little relief with the exchange. I could not discern his features at all.

Lt. Brendan Griffith and Maj. Louis Ferretti exited the wormhole together conversing. Whatever it was got Brendan smiling. How much I wanted to be in his boots right now. I quickly stood in attention.

Upon reaching us, the major greeted Gen. Hammond heartily and inquired about the older man's health. The general answered with an easy smile on his lips. He was glad they were back and, of course, debriefing would be in one hour. Having said his usual welcome back line, the general extricated himself from us and left to attend to other things before debrief.

Leaving the four of us, SG-2, alone in the Gate room. No, I stand corrected, three members and one would-be-ex-member of SG-2.

I groped for something cheery to say to break the ice but nothing came. There appeared to be a huge lump stuck in my throat and the only thing I could manage was to try and breathe evenly before them which was very hard. Funny, I've been separated from them for only ten days and I am finding myself having a hard time starting the most simplest of conversations. I admit I was ill at ease with them.

My CO definitely noticed it. He coolly regarded me for the very first time since arriving and I found myself unable to look at him straight in the eye so I focused my attention on the collar of his military-issued dark green jacket instead. We all stood there silently for a few seconds and I could feel three pairs of eyes looking at me. I think they knew what was running through my head that very moment.

Next thing I knew, Maj. Ferretti turned away to herd our teammates into the direction of the infirmary, leaving me standing there. Alone.

I think I got my answer.

I had a prior appointment at the infirmary but Dr. Fraiser wasn't there. After that I was planning on spending the remainder of the time left in my quarters and just read. Noel had included a few books from my apartment he knew I'd like when he collected some personal items of mine all those days ago. Collecting a wide variety of books was a hobby I had inherited from my mother's younger sister.

Second of three daughters of my maternal grandparents, everyone thought her a bit eccentric. Her insatiable quest for knowledge, her love of books and the size of her collection simply was beyond them. But not to me. I thought highly of this particular aunt of mine. She was my very first teacher. She had said again and again to never stop dreaming even if we were old and wrinkly. To see the good in everyone and give those who needed to be given a second chance. She thought me that everything was possible as long as one puts their mind into it. And most of all, she thought me that when everything else failed, that I should listen to my heart for it would never lead me astray.

I did that on '586 but it only got me into trouble. So there I was, the table all to myself, brooding in general as I stared down at my cup of very strong decaf.

I allowed my mind to travel back in time, on the day I had decided to play the hero on a planet whose rules were very much different from ours.

_SG-8 had discovered large deposits of raw trinium on P2A-586 and Gen. Hammond wanted Maj. Ferretti to handle the negotiations with Michen, the leader of the village that was situated close to the site Earth wanted to mine. As it so happened, their village was heavily devastated by a storm two days before and there were still a number of their people missing. Stargate Command was more than happy to help them which Michen gladly accepted._

_Three more SG teams were sent to help in the search and rescue efforts. We were all provided with basic equipment necessary to carry out rescue operations and each had additional first aid kits. A guide was provided for each team. Under Maj. Ferretti's leadership, we set out at the last known locations of those reported missing. In SG-2's case, we headed out due north in the outskirts of the village where a handful of families were residing to herd them safely back into the village. The major decided for SG-2 to spread out in order to cover more ground faster._

_I happened to stumble upon a path that led into a wide clearing. The thunderous sound of rushing water led me there, coming from somewhere behind the tree line some twenty yards ahead. I was about to turn back when I heard a shout from that direction._

_A man and a woman burst through the tree line, running like the hound of hell was after them. They kept calling out for me to help them as they ran. From their stricken faces, I thought something was indeed after them and focused my sights past them and back to the forest. I dug my heels on the soft, wet ground – ready to execute a shooting stance if necessary while my hands were busy readying my P-90 for some action._

_The young couple reached me safely and it was only then that I understood what they were yelling me for help for. Their son fell over a ravine and had been trapped there for sometime before the parents discovered his dangerous predicament._

_I quickly followed them back to the forest, interviewing the parents as we went. From what I could gather, they were about to leave their home to temporary reside with the man's parents in the village, seeing the danger the river posed on their lives. It had rapidly overflowed on the second night of the storm but miraculously never reached their home. The man, Iba, wouldn't want to gamble the lives of his wife and child so they decided to stay at the village for the time being._

_Their son, Ayen, was fond of the river and would often play there with his friends. He probably thought it was safe to go there and snuck out when his parents were busy packing for their journey. He must've had lost his footing and slipped. At this point, tears ran freely down Denya, Ayen's mother's eyes but she was able to keep up with Iba and I._

_The river was roughly forty feet below and more than a kilometer wide. Iba informed me that the river's normal water level was around a hundred and twenty feet below the ravine and only half a kilometer across. As we approached the edge of the ravine, the angry sound of the churning chocolate-colored water was deafening and I definitely felt the ground trembled beneath my feet. I cautiously took a peek below._

_I saw a sandy-colored head amidst the dark browns and grays and blacks. His hair was mottled with dirt and there were small twigs and other objects sticking out of it. The child Ayen must've fallen feet first and would've certainly been carried away by the dark, murky waters below if not for the tree that jutted on the cliff wall thirty-feet down. His small arms hugged the base of the thick Y-shaped branch that got him wedged snuggly in between its two smaller branches._

_I yelled his name at the top of my lungs three times before I got a response. Wide, frightened blue eyes, the color of clear skies, looked up at me. His hair was plastered on his head and there were scratches on his terrified young face. He appeared to be bone-tired and shaking from prolonged exposure to the cold weather but cognizant, although, the boy never said anything. He just continued staring up at the stranger who kept on shouting for him to hold on. I quickly radioed my team regarding the situation and was ordered by my CO to not do anything until they arrived._

_I had every intention of staying put but things turned for the worst in seconds. The water alarmingly rose a few feet more reaching up to Ayen's knee before mysteriously stopping in that level. A few moments more, a strong current nearly dislodged the kid from his place and if not for Ayen's presence of mind, he would've been swept away even before help arrived._

_I knew that the kid wouldn't last long. He had been clinging for dear life for a while now and he was exhibiting signs of exhaustion._

_His father was pleading and his mother was crying. Maj. Ferretti told me to stay put but my aunt's advice echoed in my mind._

Ah, hell,_ were the words I remembered uttering as I took off my gear and reached for the rope._

"Good morning, lieutenant," a female voice cheerfully greeted to my right. "Mind of I join you?"

I blinked once, seeing that I was transported back to the commissary with my mug of decaf comfortably warming my hands. I looked up to see who it was and immediately jumped out of my chair. "Not at all, ma'am," I said and watched her put her tray on the table across from me. There was a cup of coffee and two slices of pie on it.

"Relax, Aidan," Dr. Fraiser chided as she sat. "I'm not wielding any needles."

I smiled despite of myself. And before I knew it, the chief medical officer placed the biggest slice of pie she had right in front of me. I began to protest.

"Eat," she said sternly, "doctor's orders." But her smile removed the sting of her words.

Although I really wasn't hungry, I did as told mainly to please her. I wouldn't dream of angering this woman. I even heard that she was one of only two people in Stargate Command Col. O'Neill wouldn't want to cross intentionally or otherwise. She watched me carefully as I placed a piece of pie in my mouth and was only satisfied after I swallowed my fourth spoonful before she began eating. We ate in companionable silence for a while and I was contented with that.

"So, what have you decided?" she silently asked after a while.

I looked up from my plate at her confused.

"About Jonas Quinn,"

I stiffened. Suddenly conscious of our surroundings, seeing if there was anyone within earshot of us.

She quickly sensed my reaction. "Suddenly got cold feet?"

The way Dr. Fraiser said it, implied what I thought was hostility towards me and immediately straightened it out. "It's not like that, doctor." I said quickly, wanting to assure her that her trust wasn't misplaced as she continued to regard me dubiously. I looked at her straight in the eyes. "It's just that the timing sucks. I have something I needed to see through first."

"Maj. Ferretti," she said it without preamble.

I nodded. The apparent bad blood between my CO and I was no secret. I knew, in time, everyone at the base would eventually find out about it. I shoved another piece of pie in my mouth to refrain from answering verbally because, frankly, I didn't want to talk about it.

"Well, if it's any consolation," – the medical chief pushed her empty plate aside to cross both arms on the table in front of her before leaning forward a bit – "he inquired about you."

My brows went sky high at that revelation.

Dr. Fraiser laughed softly. "Why look so surprised, lieutenant? Maj. Ferretti isn't as cold-hearted as he seems. He just follows after his commanding officer. He's a good guy beneath all that tough exterior."

"I know that, Dr. Fraiser," I said.

"He's been checking in on you from time to time while they were off world. And just a while ago, he kept asking about your condition during their post-mission examination."

I must've leaned forward. "And?"

"Told him the truth. That you are still unfit for off world missions but you're on your way to recovery."

_That's all? _I thought as I continued to look at her. But all I got from her was a smile.

She then looked at her watch and said, "Well, I'd better go. Rounds to do," and stood up.

I silently followed her out of the commissary. I knew that I wouldn't be here for long so I wanted to work up the courage to tell the petite doctor how grateful I was for her friendship, however short-lived it was, while I still had the chance. But just as I was about to, she suddenly turned to look at me.

"Oh, one more thing. I heard you had quite a collection of books in your possession. You might want to share them around." She directed another smile at me before disappearing around a corner.

I frowned after her. What's she talking about?

"_Lt. Edrald to the briefing room… . Aidan Edrald to the briefingrRoom."_

It felt like a bucket of ice cold water was unceremoniously dumped over my head after hearing the summons I had been dreading for the past hour now. I drew a long, ragged breath, held it for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. With measured steps, I marched at the direction of the elevators. This was it.

The hour of judgment was finally at hand.


	5. worry over nothing

**A/N: Okay, I am eating my words because this is NOT the final chapter, although, how much I want it to be. (chomp! chomp!) Believe me, I tried putting everything here but it's not proportional (in length) to the chapters before it. I really am glad that you liked the lieutenant and just for the record, I named my character after my two adorable nephews: Edrald's four and Aidan's just turned one. I haven't "discovered" **_**Stargate Atlantis **_**yet when I wrote this fic. It's a mere coincidence that my character and Lt. Ford has the same name. :)**

**The next chapter will definitely have the words "The End" at the end of it.**

_Command (Military definition): defines who gives the orders through every step of the chain. Theoretically, all the way back up to the Pentagon and all the way down to the most junior member of the unit who, in the final exigency, would be commanding himself alone. _

_

* * *

_"_Heroes are often the most ordinary of men." _- Henry David Thoreau

**

* * *

Chapter Five – Worry Over Nothing**

Griffith and Grant were talking animatedly to one another when I arrived at the briefing room. They were situated two seats down from the general's chair and across from each other leaving the three topmost chairs empty. They almost didn't notice me enter the room through the corridor if I hadn't cleared my throat loudly.

Dr. Grant waved a hand at the empty chair beside him which, in all sincerity, I wasn't grateful for. They had me purposely boxed in and across the only other chair I knew the major would be taking once debriefing started.

They both smiled at me as I reluctantly sat down the proffered chair. They inquired about my health so I told them what I knew: The collarbone was healing nicely but I still had to keep my right arm on a sling for another three weeks, maybe more. I couldn't feel any more pain on my chest and the Australian-shaped bruise on my left torso thankfully shrank down to the size of Tasmania.

I apprehensively craned my neck at the general's office and through the transparent fiberglass window that doubled as a map of the Milky Way galaxy, I saw the general and the major in deep conversation, the latter facing our general direction and my stomach made a quick one-eighty because of it so I averted my eyes away.

_I wasn't able to reach more than ten feet when my rope slackened and I fell the rest of the way down. The tree that saved Ayen was the same one that broke my fall but it hadn't prevented me from experiencing a most excruciating pain imaginable that followed my rough tumble on its upper branches and my subsequent haphazard landing near its thick trunk._

_I grounded my back teeth hard to prevent myself from screaming my guts out. The intense agony was paralyzing: My right collarbone felt funny and I couldn't feel my right arm. My chest burned every time I breathe and my left side hurt like hell sending white spots dancing before my eyes. I would've slipped into unconsciousness were it not for the kid calling out to me for help._

_His voice cut through the haze and pain, effectively clearing my head for me to assess our situation. I happened to land on the same branch with Ayen a mere arm's length away. _

_The poor kid's teeth were chattering from the cold and his lower body was submerged in freezing water but there was nothing I could do as I got no strength to haul him out of there. _

_Ignoring my own pain and danger, I managed to inch closer to the boy, who was around eight years old, enough to encircle my good arm around him. I wrapped my legs tightly around the sturdy branch to prevent myself from slipping and perched my right arm and shoulder on a group of smaller branches beside me. Ayen had let go of his tenacious hold on the branch and wrapped his little arms around my neck._

_In order to distract ourselves from our dangerous predicament, I spent the time talking to Ayen asking things kids his age were interested in as we waited for my team to come and haul us up._

The pair finally emerged and took their places at the table with us. I felt like I was attending a court-martial – _my_ court-martial – with Lt. Griffith and Dr. Grant as witnesses for the prosecution, Maj. Ferretti as the prosecutor and Gen. Hammond the judge.

Ferretti began deliberating. He started with our arrival there and the devastation we had witnessed in the aftermath of a storm. After the word "storm" I zoned out. I knew that part already and couldn't wait for him to reach the end of it.

_Ayen was halfway through his story about this girl who lived in the village named Odeah that he really liked a lot because she wasn't squeamish about playing in the dirt like most girls do when my radio crackled to life. _

"Now there's two of you we need to rescue," _Maj. Ferretti's voice angrily spat over the radio, startling the two us. _"I told you to _stay put_, Edrald!"

_I wanted to look up but that was nigh impossible. I was lying on my stomach, facing the angry river below. I instructed Ayen to press the "talk" button on my radio and to never let go of it while I spoke._

"_The rope slackened, sir." I said in an almost pathetic way._

_Just then, a huge swell from upriver rammed right at us and the small child cried out in fright, tightening his grip on my neck, almost making it hard for me to breathe. That's when I noticed that the water had now reached the child's hips. _

"_Don't let go, please!" he cried._

"_It's all right," I said in his wet hair, his plea twisting at my heart. I would've gladly traded places with him if I could. "I got you." I said again and again, gently squeezing his trembling figure in assurance. I thought I heard someone shouting above us but I couldn't be certain._

"What's your status, lieutenant?"

_The little kid once again pressed the button so that I could respond. I told them our situation and I also ought to tell them one more thing. "I think I might've broken something, sir," and winced as I readied myself for another round of remonstrations which I very much deserved._

_Maj. Ferretti wasn't one to disappoint. _"Perfect!"_ he said loudly. I looked at Ayen and saw him screwing his face up. Yep, that's about how I feel right about now. Screwed. _"How's the tree holding out so far?"

_I turned as much as I could. "It's not going anywhere, sir."_

_My radio remained silent after the major informed us that it would take some time before they could get to us leaving me with the noise of the river below us as companion but it was starting to irritate me._

"_I'm scared," Ayen suddenly whispered into my ear._

_I turned and saw him close to tears. His nose getting all red like Rudolph's. "Me, too, kiddo."_

I studied Maj. Ferretti's profile facing the general as he spoke for the team. He carried a lot of weight around as he's one of the pioneers of Gate travel. The general would definitely listen to him if he'd recommend my immediate dismissal from the team and most probably from SGC. He's had more than five years of experience and had been through a lot. So how in the world could I ever contest to that?

_We trudged back to the Stargate a few hours later, leaving Ayen and his parents behind the remaining SG teams. Before I could even step up unto the raised platform of the Gate, Maj. Ferretti pulled me roughly aside._

"_What the hell were you thinking, lieutenant?"_

_I answered him truthfully and never lost eye contact throughout my explanation. My assessment of the situation._

"_I told you not to do anything until we arrived, haven't I?"_

_I nodded and tore my eyes away from him at that point._

"_You disobeyed a direct order!"_

_I gulped._

"_I am about a hair away from kicking you out of the team, Edrald." He angrily said as he briskly walked towards the Gate before whirling back at me. "I am not through with you, yet."_

"…and it's also because of Lt. Edrald."

I was pulled out of my reverie upon hearing the tail end of Maj. Ferretti's sentence but hadn't dared lift my eyes from its study of my left hand's movements. I knew they were all looking at me.

"Is this true, lieutenant?" Gen. Hammond asked gravely, turning his chair around to face me.

I had to answer. "Yes, sir." I said and still preferred to not look up. There was no point denying it. I was prepared for the reprimand I knew I was about to receive from the general deciding not to say anything at all and just take it as I so richly deserved. His next words nearly staggered me out of my chair.

"Good job, people. The Pentagon will be happy to hear that they're going to get their raw trinium after all. I expect to find your individual mission reports on my table first thing tomorrow."

I blinked. _What?_

"Dismissed."

I stared incredulously at the general's retreating back. I waited for him to come right back and say that he made a mistake, that I was getting the ax and I was going to be dismissed from the Military service dishonorably. But the general entered his office and that was it.

What in the blazes did just happen? I think the question was clearly written all over my face as I stared dumbstruck at Major Ferretti who, in turn, was looking at me unblinkingly.

If I heard the general right, that we were given permission to mine '586, then that meant SG-2 was successful in bringing back Michen into the table. And if I also heard right – it was also because of me?

_What the heck's happening?_

A manic grin split across my CO's face, crow's feet appearing around the edges of his eyes, erasing all traces of the seriousness he was sporting just a few seconds ago.

I sat there unresponsive to the hearty thumps from my two other teammates congratulating me as I tried to absorb what was happening around me. Which then prompted me to doubt my sanity. And had me asking myself -

Was this some kind of a joke?

If this indeed _was_ a joke, and in all likelihood I knew who the perpetrator behind it, I didn't find it funny.

Grant was laughing beside me. "Man, you should've seen your face when debriefing started."

"It was like a Gate came crashing down on you," Griffith said exchanging high-fives with their friend. When I continued looking at them like I had no idea what they were talking about (which I was), he frowned. "What, weren't you listening?"

I shook my head. I think. And that's when I heard for the very first time at what really went down on the planet after they returned there without me ten days ago.

As it turned out Ayen, the kid whom I rescued from certain death was Michen's only grandchild. Iba was Michen's son and he was expecting the family that day and when they didn't show up, began to worry. That was why the village leader personally asked Maj. Ferretti to check the place out where they lived. Upon hearing the true story from his grandson, Michen wanted to personally thank me for getting out of my way to save the boy if he could. And one way of showing his gratitude was to reopen talks with SG-2.

And wanting to grant the man's request, Maj. Ferretti and the general were discussing it over at the latter's office when I arrived. They were thinking of either letting me go back to '586 as soon as I was allowed to travel or let Michen visit SGC himself.

There was still something that doesn't add up. "But what about my disobeying a direct order?"

Jim snorted. "Come on, you saved the guy's grandson. It's his progeny we're talking about here. The least he could do was forget it ever happened!"

All that time, I was looking at my commanding officer who was sitting silently across from me. There was a few minutes of silence before the major moved to lean deeper into his chair, rocking it a bit, clasping his hands together on his lap.

"Told ya, I wasn't through with you, lieutenant." Maj. Ferretti said, his grin never disappearing, eyes twinkling in merriment.

So all that worry was for nothing?

_Holy sh – _My mind never got to finish what it wanted to scream out because the Gate klaxon suddenly rang out.

Griffith and Grant made their way to the viewport. It was a rare opportunity to see the Gate from this perspective, meaning just watching as bystanders, waiting to see who was coming through it.

I sat there looking at the major. There were a million questions I wanted to ask him but somehow found myself bereft of speech. Also, the jumbled up feelings running rampant inside me was threatening to send my senses to overload.

I saw the general in my peripheral vision going down the flight of stairs to the control room as I continued staring at the major. The major gave me a mysterious smile before running after the commander downstairs. Since SGC's second-in-command, Col. O'Neill was presently off world, the responsibility of acting as the commander's 2IC rested on Maj. Ferretti since he was, in all account, the next most senior officer-in terms of experience, not rank-on the base.

I stood up and went towards the viewport.

The Gate's inner circle was still spinning. A squad of SFs appeared at the bottom of the ramp entering from both sides of the Gate room, the doors hidden from view.

Six chevrons were lit and already locked in place. The seventh and last, located at the topmost part of the Stargate, lit up a second later marking the completion of the dial sequence.

A metallic whine came right after followed by a horizontal pillar of "bubbles" (for lack of a better term) that reached out from the center of the Gate and quickly receded into the wormhole's event horizon.

The trinium-titanium iris slid to a close.

It was a rare opportunity to watch the flurry of activity centered around this ten thousand-year-old relic from a race that preceded mankind by thousands of millions of years from a bystander's perspective. A totally different experience from when one was a part of it.

"It's SG-1," Griffith announced beside me as soon as the iris retracted to reveal the event horizon. Grant and I looked at him, surprised he knew because no one came through yet. He pointed below us. I looked.

Jonas Quinn.

SG-1 appeared a few seconds later. Jonas patiently waited for them at the bottom of the ramp, clutching something to his side. It was a dark rectangular object, either a book or a notebook, and waved at them with it.

Three SFs moved towards them then to accept their weapons and gears. Although, I couldn't hear what was being said Maj. Carter smiled, Teal'c nodded at him and the colonel did a quick once-over (to me the look didn't seemed hostile) at the youngest member of their team.

I saw the colonel's lips moved. He must have directed a question at Jonas in which he replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Maj. Carter joined in on their conversation as the Jaffa Teal'c simply listened and followed his companions out of the Gate room.

I stood rooted to the spot, staring down at the now empty Gate room, my mind going from zero to Mach two in an instant.

"Alrightee," Griffith said exuberantly. "Anyone up for lunch?"

I heard Grant say something but I was busy making sense of my own thought process. Something was definitely nagging at me.

"Yo, Edrald. You alright?"

I looked at our 2IC's reflection in the glass. "Huh? Uh, yeah. I was just… thinking. You were saying?"

"I said, it's lunchtime already. We've got to get there early or we won't get good seats, not to mention, food."

And then it hit me. I turned and strode towards the door.

"Where're you goin'?" Griffith called out.

"Uh, listen," I hurriedly said. "Why don't you guys go ahead and I'll catch up with you there."

"What?" Griffith was certainly confused.

"I just need to do something first," I said, walking briskly down the corridor.

"Hey, if this is about that prank we pulled-"

"No." I turned and saw the two of them standing outside the corridor about to gave chase. It occurred to me that my sudden departure worried them. I understood that so I took a deep breath to calm myself. "No, it's not. Really. I just have to do this. I may never have another chance again."

Grant looked at me intently. "That important, huh?"

I nodded.

They looked at one another and then turned their attention back to me.

"Don't blame us if all the good ones are gone," Griffith warned.

I grinned.

I made a beeline for the books stacked on the shelf inside my quarters. I remembered the time when I bumped into the Kelownan his things went flying this way and that. There were a few worn out books along with the stuff he was carrying but gave no thought to them then.

Looking back, I remembered seeing library tags on each of the spines with the logo of the SGC on top. The books could've only belonged to the base library.

The SGC library has earned notoriety for its inability to buy new books for their cache. I think _The Scarlet Pimpernel _was still on the new arrivals list when it had been there for more than a year now.

Finding out what I was looking for I hurried out of my room, walking briskly towards another section of the VIP level. It was hard picking the books up with one hand that's for sure.

I took a cautious peek around as I came into a corner to see if anyone was there before I approached the only door in that area. I made sure that nothing in the books could pinpoint their origins back to me and I knew he would like them a lot.

I stealthily placed them at the foot of the door and quickly ran like never before to the elevators.

Once it opened, I dashed inside despite the disapproving looks I received from the people inside the elevator. Like I cared a wink. I was grinning madly.

Now that everything in my life was almost back to normal, I am free to pursue what I wanted to do all those days ago. And all I could think about as I headed down to the commissary was-

_Thank you, Dr. Fraiser._


	6. of courage & changes

**A/N: Last chapter. Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry it took longer than intended. Storms, a massive blackout and downed services – not to mention mounting piles of paperwork because of it and my ever-demanding boss! – prevented me from making any progress of any fic that I am currently working on for almost an entire week. Ugh! So frustrating! It's a wonder my migraine hadn't made an appearance yet (and it's one of the things I'd rather do without!), thank the Maker! On a lighter note, I would like to thank everyone who had taken the time to read this and for that alone I am very grateful. I can now happily say that I can look back at this without wincing in shame because I am finally able to finish it. Again, thanks so much for sticking with me throughout! Bear hugs for everyone!**

**I know I added the timeline pretty late but better late than never, right? :)**

**Story Timeline: **set a few weeks before _The Other Guys_

* * *

"_Peace begins by willing to accept the things that needed change, and changing the things that you are not willing to accept." _- Anonymous

"_You must be the change you wish to see in the world."_

"_Courage has never been known to be a matter of muscle; it is a matter of the heart. The toughest muscle has been known to tremble before an imaginary fear. It was the heart that set the muscle atrembling."_

- quotes from Mahatma Gandhi

**

* * *

Chapter Six – Of Courage & Changes**

I was happy to be reunited with my team again.

How many times have I said that already?

Gut feeling told me that it was Maj. Ferretti's idea to let me sweat a few days or so because, I guess, he had no intention of letting me off the hook that easily. That scene in the briefing room just confirmed it.

I wasn't mad. I was relieved. Utterly. I knew, without doubt, that the major had entertained the thought of having me replaced when Michen told them the reasons of forfeiting the talks with us – because I broke their number one rule. But everything panned out right when it turned out that the kid I rescued was the village leader's grandson – the reason of my disobedience and subsequent "reinstatement" in the team.

I was more than happy that everything turned out all right but it still didn't change the fact that I disobeyed my commanding officer, completely disregarded the chain of command. That alone was enough ground for me to be relieved of duty and, knowing the major who demanded strict obedience from those under his command, he had every right to.

Any which way I look at it, I was and am a total failure. But why did the major let me stay?

"Got a bee in your bonnet, lieutenant?"

I was so deep in thought I had no idea that I was staring at Maj. Ferretti. I blinked.

I headed straight to the commissary after my little adventure at the VIP level and saw the rest of SG-2 there. As soon as I laid my tray on the table, Maj. Ferretti extended his right arm at me, his hand clutching at something small. "They send their regards," he said.

With a frown, I took it.

"It's amber," the major informed me, "back on '586 they call it _se-ika legat_. Pretty expensive, I was told. They had it made especially for you. A way to show their thanks at saving their kid."

I studied the yellowish-brown translucent resin with interest. It was heavy, about the size of a huge marble. Smooth and cool to the touch. It caught the light of the fluorescent overhead, casting soft golden light on my open palm. And there was something floating suspended at its center. "They _had_ it made?" I repeated, surprised and puzzled at the same time. "But isn't amber supposed to be – "

"A fossilized resin that was exuded by coniferous trees from millions of years ago," Our scientist Dr. Grant answered. "We also thought we heard wrong. We had it checked out, in case there's something other than what's inside of it. It's not synthetic, if that's what you think. It's the real deal and it's not copal."

"Semi-fossilized resin or sub-fossil amber." The words came out of my lips unbidden. My teammates threw bewildered stares my way and I hid my discomfiture behind a lopsided smile. "I read it somewhere. Copal." I kept my being a bookworm a secret from them all this time. I never knew why.

"It was, what one could call, a rush job," Griffith divulged. "What had taken millions of years for Mother Nature to make; these guys at '586 did it in just under three days." He said and stuck out the appropriate number of fingers for emphasis.

"Most of Earth's amber ranges from 30 to 90 million years old," our CO blurted distractedly down the table, busy with his mashed potato. "I wanted it carbon-dated but that would take time and I promised the folks back on the planet that I'd give it to you as soon as we get here." Now it was our turn wearing bewildered looks on our faces as the three of us regarded the major silently. He returned ours with a stare of his own. "Hey, I read, too."

"Kinda makes me think of _Jurassic Park,_ actually." Their 2IC added after a few minutes, looking at the small present with interest.

Our scientist threw him a sidelong glance akin to contempt. I knew what that look meant. They both had a difference in opinion with regards to the book's author, Michael Crichton. More often than not, their discussion would go on for hours if left unchecked. Something was telling me that if I didn't cut in at that precise moment, we were looking at another round of argument ahead.

"So, how's Ayen doing?" I asked hurriedly in order to distract them both.

"For one thing, the kid recovered much faster than you," Grant answered with a hint of humor in his voice. "He was up and running a day before we left, like nothing happened."

Maj. Ferretti leaned forward. "Recognize the thing inside it?"

I squinted my eyes trying to discern the tiny object in the middle.

"A chip of the tree that saved your lives, Edrald. The parents wanted you to have it as a souvenir."

I sat there silently contemplating the little gift in my hand. The voices of my teammates were drowned out by the thoughts racing through my mind. First of all, I was touched by the gesture. I know it's just a splinter of wood but it meant a lot to Ayen's parents and, in turn, meant a lot to me, too.

Other dark and gloomy thoughts followed soon thereafter. I entertained all of them because I knew we nearly lost a lot because of me. I wallowed in self-pity until I was pulled out of it by my commanding officer's voice. I blinked a second time and realized that we two were the only ones left at the table. The others had returned to the counter for a second helping.

"Lieutenant?" A concerned frown appeared on his face when I didn't responded the first time and just continued staring at him.

I mentally shook myself from the spell that was self-inflicted. "I'm sorry, sir. I was just preoccupied."

Maj. Ferretti frowned. "Spill," he prodded gently.

_Oh, what the heck!_ I told myself fiercely. _Might as well ask him for my own peace of mind._ I once again looked at the counter and saw the others chatting with some of the base personnel. From what I could surmise, they'd be there for a while.

"Why?"

He inclined his head at me slightly, brows arched in puzzlement.

I lowered my eyes and stared at my half-finished plate. "I mean, why have you decided on letting me remain with the team when you could've just as easily removed me from it? Don't think me ungrateful, sir. I am. Very much. But I disobeyed your order and no matter how anyone would look at it, I failed in that aspect. Earth almost lost a valuable supply of trinium, a new ally and I could've gotten both of us killed." That last sentence echoed in my head. I knew that it would haunt me for a while, regardless of the outcome. I sighed combing my hair with my good hand resignedly. "Another CO would gladly take me off their hands after a fiasco like that – "

"Well, there you have it," Major Ferretti softly said, cutting right in the middle when I was just warming up. "Just as you said: I am not another CO."

I looked up, startled. There was not a hint of mockery that I could detect on his visage at all. My CO was dead serious despite the fact that a smile tugged at the corners of his thin mouth.

"I guess, by now, you have a pretty good idea of how I tick, Edrald," he began at which I nodded my head. "I was seriously considering taking you out of SG-2 even though the truth was out. I wasn't that happy with being ignored."

I inwardly flinched at that last sentence. "Then what made you change your mind?" I quickly added, "sir."

"Because I know a good solider when I see one," he said. "It takes a lot of gut to stand up for what you think is right and what to do about it. You disobeyed my command and heck, yeah, I was pissed but you stood your ground when I confronted you. And that, for me, says a lot. There are certain situations that needed immediate action, lieutenant, not to mention, one's presence of mind. We weren't there when it happened. You were. So basically, it was your call to make. And you did fine, by the way" – Maj. Ferretti ended with a grin as he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders – "but, I guess, you already know that."

I sat there stunned. There was buzzing in my ears. Did I heard right? Am I really having this conversation with Maj. Louis Ferretti?

"But that doesn't mean I am condoning your actions, Edrald. You know that I got no patience with people who blatantly disregard the chain of command on my team. So you still gotta prove to me that I made the right decision on letting you stay."

I nodded my understanding, wholly humbled by it.

"Cockiness I can tolerate as long as it doesn't affect the team. But don't overdo it. Are we clear on this, lieutenant?"

I nodded emphatically. "Yes, sir."

"And, if you'd like to know, the kid's worried about you."

That took me by surprise.

"Yep," Maj. Ferretti answered. "Even got me cornered and pleaded your case to me. I asked Dr. Fraiser if you could travel off world anytime soon. She said she'd give you another week more to be sure. So the least you can do is get well enough to pay the kid a visit. You owe him that much."

My conversation with Dr. Fraiser that morning came back to me and couldn't believe that she was also in on it!

I had another question to ask when I noticed him looking over my shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a wager to claim," and quickly stood up. "Be right back."

I followed the major with my eyes as he approached Maj. Addison and his team, SG-8 with a hearty greeting. I knew not what they were betting on, but based on Maj. Ferretti's superior smug smile alone, it was enough to suggest that SG-8's leader had lost big time to him.

And that was when I felt rather than saw Jonas Quinn enter the room via the door to my left.

Heads turned at his direction. Noticing his lack of companion, conversation dwindled to a minimum as everyone regarded the Kelownan. And like before, he tried his best to ignore everyone as he purposely strode towards the counter. He turned to face the crowd with his tray of food a short while later and when I thought he was going to leave like the first time five days ago, Jonas Quinn instead snaked his way to the farthest empty table available, almost hugging the wall, and sat with his back to the rest of the room. A leather bound book was lying near his left elbow.

I looked around me, gauging everyone's reactions and didn't like what I saw.

Hatred. Aggression. Even fear. It was like they were at a zoo, ogling at some new exotic animal they knew not what to feel towards it exactly.

Something inside me snapped as I looked down at my tray. I admit to giving into something akin to anger, mingled with the remorse I felt, bubbling up inside me at that very moment which was a rare occurrence on my part. All I knew was that I was tired of being a helpless observer anymore when I could very well do something about it. If I didn't act now, I might never have the chance again. And it would just continue on and on.

I hid my good hand under the table, out of sight, and placed it on my lap as I clenched it spasmodically. I tried my best to make my other hand slack but somehow it got a mind of its own and joined its twin whose knuckles were by now white with barely controlled anger.

I knew it wasn't right. It never was or ever would be.

But would I do anything to stop it?

Dr. Fraiser's words from our very first conversation days before came back to haunt me and, surprisingly, as well as Maj. Ferretti's. I knew what I had to do but I also am very much aware of the risks, if ever I would execute them, involved that would surely affect my future relationship with everyone at the base and, most especially, with SG-2. Being marked as an outcast, I think, was probably what was stopping me from doing the right thing. Fear that I might be discriminated because of it. Fear of rejection.

Fear of how my teammates would react. My commanding officer and Dr. Jackson were friends and I knew how it hurt to lose someone close to you so I really couldn't blame the man if he felt animosity towards the Kelownan at all. He had every right to. But I couldn't say the same to the majority of the people at Stargate Command. It just seemed so unfair.

Having that thought in mind, I turned at Maj. Ferretti's direction only to discover that he was closely looking at me. He probably noticed my taut features and rigid back from across the room. I guess I was completely absorbed at scanning the sea of faces around me to notice it.

I knew I ought to look away but couldn't. There was something in the major's brown eyes that had me fixated. I frowned ever so slightly as I continued staring at him. That look on his face was translated into words in my head.

_What are you going to do about it?_

My heart skipped a beat. Did he knew? Impossible. I never told anyone except –

"_Told him the truth."_ Dr. Fraiser said that morning along with that mysterious smile on her face.

Could it be? Had Dr. Fraiser told him anything about my wanting to be friends with SG-1's newbie? There was no trace of anger in the major's face that I could see, although, that alone wasn't very reassuring. To me, it looked more like Maj. Ferretti was waiting for my next move before showing his hand.

_Follow your heart._

Steeling my nerves, I stood up and gathered my lunch tray and purposely strode towards the solitary figure of Jonas Quinn, the center of all this animosity. I knew the moment I lifted my tray off the table that there was no turning back.

Not one gave me notice as I snaked around tables and chairs until I was standing there right beside him. I felt everyone's gazes bore on my back but ignored all of them as I summoned the most casual voice I could muster.

"This seat taken?"

Instant recognition replaced the surprised look on the man's face as he checked out who dared talk to him amidst all these people in the commissary. A friendly smile blossomed on his lips as he answered, "No. Go ahead."

I let out a breath, relieved that I wasn't shunned away. I sat across the table from him, ignoring the rest of the crowd as I focused my attention solely on the dark-haired man in front of me. "I believe, we weren't properly introduced," I said once I sat down. "Aidan Edrald."

Jonas readily clasped my proffered hand. "Jonas Quinn," he said with a half-hearted smile. "But I guess you already know that."

"Can't say I haven't," I chuckled.

"I saw your team a while ago. SG-2's probably wondering where you've gone…"

I turned to where Jonas was pointing at and glimpsed the encouraging smiles both Grant and Griffith directed at me which was something totally unexpected. A little light turned on in my head – maybe I'm not the only one who thought differently about Jonas Quinn. That was comforting. "Nah, they wouldn't mind." I answered confidently.

His brows rose questioningly after he caught me smiling like crazy. As our eyes met, something connected. I definitely knew, at that very moment, he already considered me a friend. Again, the good doctor was right, Jonas Quinn readily trusted without reservations, which I found a bit unnerving. And speaking of which… "Hey, listen, about the other day – "

Jonas knew what I was talking about. "Nah, forget it."

"No. Let me," I insisted. "My friend, Noel, he's a good guy. He just had a tough day, that's all." I added, "And you'll like him once you get to know him better."

My companion lamely smiled at that. Jonas didn't have to say anything for me to figure out the meaning behind it. _Fat chance. _"Been friends long?"

"Since boot camp. Whatcha got there?" I asked, nodding my head at the book near his elbow, trying to sound curious.

"_The Complete and Unabridged Tales of Hans Christian Andersen_." Jonas Quinn handed it over to me. "I found that, along with two other books, at my doorstep a while ago." He watched me flip through the pages. "Although, I find _The Little Mermaid_ a bit disturbing."

"Really?"

Jonas went on to explain. "Well, it's a children's story, right? With the princesses marrying their princes and they live happily ever after before the "The End". The Disney adaptation did just that. But Mr. Andersen changing her into a sea foam? I mean, I know what he's trying to say but I'm sure that the children weren't happy with the outcome."

"My kid sister's one of them disgruntled ones," I agreed as I pointed at the open pages of the book on my hands. "This was her favorite: _The Seven Swans_. First story our dad ever read to her."

He nodded. "I can tell by the darkened edges of the pages that it's been flipped through more often than the rest. And I bet Donna wanted your father to read it to her every night."

I sat there stunned. "How did you – "

"The way you handled the book and your familiarity with it without checking out the table of contents gave you away. The look in your eyes confirms it. As for the name of your sister, it's on the very first page." The Kelownan revealed. Subconsciously, I think he was demonstrating his hyper-observing abilities on me. "That book's around sixteen years old so I guess your sister's around 16 to 20 – "

"19," I revealed in a low voice, my throat restricting of its own volition. "Donna would've turned nineteen last April." When Jonas continued looking at me, with that unspoken question in his dark green eyes, I knew he was waiting for me to continue. "She and our parents were killed in a plane crash ten years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that,"

I nodded all too quickly. Not wanting to linger in the past, I quickly changed the topic. "So, did you like the other two?"

Jonas' face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, yeah! Thanks for that. The one written by Cotterell was fascinating. I've read about the Mayan civilization and the Lid of Palenque on the internet but they never discussed it the way he did in the book. The Mayan Transformers were so cool I think I'd like to try and decipher them myself one of these days!"

I blinked, astounded. "You read it already?"

"Just skimmed through the introductory chapter – which was good, by the way. Couldn't wait to read it!" My new-found friend exclaimed excitedly. "What about the other one?"

"Graham Hancock's? Comets, asteroids, our solar system, planetary collisions, imminent death, the old "is there life on Mars?" question and what made that dichotomy line and what "killed" it – not to mention world mythology thrown here and there. A lot about NASA and the Space Program with a dash of a few popular major scientific cover-ups." I enumerated. "It's a very good read through and through. Mr. Hancock was very thorough with his scientific research, although, it's nothing compared to the Stargate Program but very thought-provoking. Comes highly recommended." I could see that he was highly intrigued and couldn't help adding a little. "I bet you already know that the name Cairo is derivative of the Arabic word El-Kahira which is also the same name given to Mars."

"It means "the Red Planet"," Jonas supplied.

I nodded. "Aunt Maddie, one of Mom's younger sisters, became my legal guardian after the crash. She passed on to me her passion for books and encouraged me to start my own collection. Mr. Hancock's work was a present from her three years ago."

"Maddie," Jonas said it like he was experimenting the name on his lips. "I like that name."

I smiled. "It's what I secretly call her," I revealed, "short for Matilde."

"Jonas?" a female voice softly called out.

The two of us looked up in unison. I quickly stood to attention, seeing who it was. My companion followed at a much slower pace.

"Sam."

Major Samantha Carter was standing behind Jonas Quinn. She looked at Jonas for a second before she turned to regard me with a frown. She hadn't said anything but the expression on her face was clear enough. Wary. Complete distrust. Another voice floated towards our little group. This time it was a male voice. A familiar male voice.

"-ng you, Lee I can tolerate because even though he's a scientist, he makes sense." The leader of SG-1, Col. Jack O'Neill appeared from behind his 2IC with Teal'c beside him. He had both hands buried deep in the pockets of his BDU pants. "Sometimes."

He stopped beside the major as soon as he saw Jonas Quinn.

"Oh, there you are," the colonel said, chirpy. "We've – " – his tongue slipped – "_They_" – pointed at the major and Teal'c – "had been looking for you when you didn't show up at Carter's lab for lunch."

Jonas merely shrugged. "You guys seemed pretty busy I didn't want to impose. But I was going to meet up with you at the briefing room as soon as I'm finished here."

At that point, pairs of blue, brown and black eyes all turned to regard me intently. Jonas had clearly forgotten I was there and made haste with the introductions. I noticed that the noise in the commissary had now returned to normal, no doubt, because the rest of SG-1 was there now.

The colonel studied me from head to foot. "One of Lou's kids, huh?" He huffed. "Well, aren't you a bit far off from your team?"

"I am certain that Major Ferretti would understand, O'Neill." Teal'c said in that low voice of his.

The colonel whipped his head to look at the Jaffa curiously, then turned his attention at me and back again. He looked like he was trying to gage if there was something going on that he didn't know about.

I tentatively smiled my thanks at Teal'c as he subtly bowed his shaved head at me. He must've had an inkling as to why I was there and understood which was something I wasn't expecting at all. Maj. Carter's reaction was something I wasn't expecting, either, for that matter. She continued to regard me like I was the scum of the universe. Of the colonel's reaction, I was completely taken by surprise.

"Well, if that's the case," Col. O'Neill finally said, in a rather flippant way as he looked at the Jaffa on the other side of him, "pull up an extra chair, will ya, T? Seems like there'll be five people eating lunch on this table."

- - - o 0 o - - -

"I am _so_ gonna ask Hammond to rethink his decision," Col. O'Neill said indignantly as he took a seat at the head of our table, placing his tray of food in front of him.

Maj. Carter occupied the chair beside Jonas. "Even if the general grants your request, sir, it still won't make a difference."

"It _will_," the colonel said pointedly, "for my sanity."

"We will only be on the planet for a small amount of time, O'Neill," Teal'c countered beside me, the low timbre of his voice carried a hint of exasperation for their commanding officer's inherent stubbornness. He handed Jonas and I cups of blue Jell-Os each that this particular team loved so much. I thanked him with another smile. "I do not think they will tax your sanity overly so."

Everyone smiled at that as the colonel threw a scathing glare at the Jaffa who seemed unaffected by it. "I'd rather put up with Lee than any of the on base scientists."

"Jack O'Neill's gonna put up with whom?"

All five of us turned and saw Maj. Ferretti standing before us. My jaw dropped to the floor as I gazed up at him. He even had his tray with him.

"The colonel had some concerns regarding Dr. Felger leading the scientific team we're about to escort in a few weeks, major." It was Jonas Quinn who answered. "He'd rather it be Dr. Lee instead."

"Oh, fun!" My commanding officer gleefully said, very much like a kid about to get his hands on free candy on Halloween. Col. O'Neill waved him to the only empty seat available – on the other end of the table which was to my immediate left. He heartily smiled at Jonas who replied back with a friendly greeting of his own. I was completely taken aback with the major's friendly behavior towards the Kelownan. The guy was full of surprises. So does that mean what I think it means?

I unconsciously held my breath as he turned to look at me. I saw no anger or disapproval in those eyes. What I saw was mischief and – pride?

"But Dr. Lee _is_ one of our on base scientists, sir," Maj. Carter reminded her CO. "I can't see why you object too much about Dr. Felger's team being the ones to go off world with us."

"Lee knows how we work." He replied a bit disgruntled. "At the very least, make him lead the scientific team. We don't know what's gonna go down on the planet exactly so I need someone I can count on to follow orders when I give them."

"Dr. Felger seemed like a nice guy," Jonas said, wanting to be helpful. "I'm sure he'll do fine, colonel."

Col. O'Neill leaned forward on the table to directly address his teammate. "Well, that doesn't necessarily translate that this _Fletcher_ guy can obey orders when given. He's a scientist for godsakes!"

That earned him a reproachful look from his 2IC which hadn't gone unnoticed.

"He's a _civilian_ scientist," the colonel corrected himself.

Jonas Quinn lifted questioning brows at their commanding officer.

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Col. O'Neill told him, clearly annoyed at the looks he was receiving.

Jonas shrugged. "Well, I heard he's somewhat of an adoring fan of SG-1," he revealed. "I heard he had a row with another scientist the other day. Dr. Coombs, I believe. Something about the difference between the Stargate Program and _Star Trek_."

"Yeah," Maj. Ferretti chuckled. "The guy read all your mission reports and I overheard him say you guys were cool."

"_I don't care_," their CO slowly hissed softly, dismissing the news without thought. "What about you, lieutenant?" Col. O'Neill suddenly asked. "If given the chance, you rather baby sit nerdies you can tolerate, won't you?"

A blue Jell-O cube quivered on my spoon as it suddenly halted midway to my mouth when I heard I was being addressed to and was once again the center of attention. I found that hard to deal with as I looked at the face of my companions who fell silent obviously waiting for me to respond. My CO directed another mischievous smile at me. Jonas looked encouraging. Maj. Carter's face was inscrutable. Teal'c seemed ready to assist me again just in case and the colonel looked hopeful.

"Well," I cleared my throat, carefully replacing my spoon down my plate, "if it ever were possible to choose who I want to baby sit, then I had to agree with you, sir. Unfortunately," – the triumphant smile that blossomed on the colonel's face suddenly evaporated – "I do not have that privilege."

Maj. Ferretti's face splits into a manic grin. Jonas Quinn chuckled heartily behind his glass of soda. Teal'c resumed eating (most likely he approved of my answer). A smile tugged at the corners of Maj. Carter's lips for the first time as she regarded me with a different, more positive expression on her face: like I passed some sort of ritual or something that made the major accept me right then and there – that I had no hidden agenda on befriending their newest and youngest teammate.

"It is wise to heed Lieutenant Edrald's counsel, O'Neill," Teal'c quietly said amidst the bemused expressions of everyone. "General Hammond may not see it as you do."

The leader of SG-1 finally surrendered, growling low and throwing up his hands in the air in disgruntlement, muttering about birds having the same feathers.

As friendly banter was tossed around our table, I merely sat there and said nothing as I continued watching them, smiling occasionally at Col. O'Neill's snide remarks about _Fletcher_ and everything in general. Jonas readily joined in as the topic switched from work to hockey, Col. O'Neill's favorite sport. I admit to be more of an NFL fan but listened nonetheless. Maj. Carter was waiting for Dr. Fraiser to arrive who promised to have lunch with them that day. I, too, am also looking forward to see the doctor again to thank her. She was, after all, the one who gave me the push I needed in order to accomplish what I set out to do that started five days ago.

It was then that I espied Dr. Fraiser enter the commissary and quickly waved at her. She was smiling broadly when she saw who I was with and quickly headed to the food counter. No doubt, she couldn't wait to join up with us.

- - - o 0 o - - -

I looked around at the six people with me on the table a few moments later. No one could deny the camaraderie these people shared and that a lot of folks at SGC found hard to believe. But there it was and there was no mistaking the fact that Jonas Quinn had friends amidst the general air of hatred aimed at him.

Small in number, yes, but friends nonetheless. And to think that I now also contributed to that number.

Until I thought about Noel Sykes. How was he going to react once he learned of this? I remembered what I told Jonas a while ago about Noel. He's hot-headed and easily influenced, yes, but still a good guy. And he's my friend. I think I would have to trust on our friendship to survive this. Given time, I think Noel would certainly change his perception of the Kelownan once he got to know him better.

"So, this Felger guy," Col. O'Neill cleared his throat, "thinks we're cool, huh?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, at which point Maj. Ferretti nodded empathically at him, a smug smile on his face.

The colonel grunted softly as he quirked a brow in thought while the rest of us exchanged knowing looks around the crowded table.

Despite my inevitable disagreement with Noel for days to come once he returned, I was smiling like mad. I was now happy to say that the question that what pestering me for days I could now answer without hesitation or guilt.

Did I do anything to stop it?

I think my answer to that's obvious enough.

_**THE END **_


End file.
